


Rogue Heart

by Unfinished_Symphony



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Background Relationships, Drunkenness, Flirting, Food, George's POV, Knight Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Political Alliances, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Slow Burn, Tags May Change, They dance, and they were rivals, dream is something, george is a prince
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfinished_Symphony/pseuds/Unfinished_Symphony
Summary: Had dancing always felt as natural as it now looked?Was it just the atmosphere or was it something altogether different?His whole life George could never have pinpointed a moment where dancing had made him feel anything but dread and embarrassment. Yet here, standing with the man before him, dancing with a complete stranger, it felt…Dare he say it,right?----George was never a fan of parties, nor attention, nor anything to do with his position atop his royal throne. But why, when this strangers gaze was so focused on him, did it make him feel so whole? He wanted to solve this enigma. He wanted to follow that dream.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

The painfully dim flames flickering in the frosted glass on the walls and chandelier. The obnoxious laughter of the crowd as they danced and weaved and perused the floor, heels and soles tapping and squeaking on the overly polished marble. Servers in a constant battle against gravity and those too inebriated to care about such trivial things (after all, it’s a _party_ and it was simply _inconceivable_ that anything that would disrupt the perfect balance of the affair could ever occur). A band playing both too loud and off tune to be able to ignore or enjoy.  


George hated parties.  


If he could have escaped from the gala without notice, he’d probably have been gone hours ago. Or at least what felt like hours. In this damned hall with not even a clock upon the wall it was near impossible to tell.  


The moon so high in the sky, stars freckling the canvas of night led him to believe it must have been hours at this point. He and the others had arrived just as the sun fully vanished behind the horizon. And by now it was far too dark and late for them to be able to make it all the way back home even if they’d left just as this thought was occurring to him.  


A none-too-small part of him was cursing his own stupidity for not pushing the others to just pack up and leave the stuffy affair before they’d all gotten so caught up in the energy of it. But it hadn’t taken long for Sap to get caught up with Karl, Bad and Skeppy to find some cozy corner of the room to chat amongst themselves (just like they’d been doing the whole journey anyways), and Quackity to find his way onto the dance floor leaving the brunet prince to fend for himself.  


The drink that had been placed in his hands upon their arrival had long since gone flat, sparkling bubbles that once rose from the bottom of the flute to the top of the golden liquid now stagnant as the alcohol had risen to room temperature. The food being carried on the silver platters also held no appeal, now largely picked over by the party guests leaving less appetizing ends of sandwiches, a few loose vegetables, and whatever the god awful pink concoction in the silver cups was that smelled faintly of vinegar and the dread of humanity.  


George had to believe the mousy girl with the almost silver blond hair was having an even more miserable time this evening being forced to burden the weight of that tray and its putrid contents all evening, though it did nothing to lessen his disdain in any meaningful way.  


Well, at least not to the full extent. The grossed out look on her face anytime she caught a whiff of whatever it was did cause a small laugh to bubble up from his throat every now and then.  


The tune played by the band had changed, slowly fading out of one more jaunty and lively tune to a softer, simpler melody. The beginnings of the headache that had begun to root themselves in his temples seemed to abate just a tad as the noises lessened.  


He stood, removing himself from the chair against the wall he's been stationed in after his initial trek through the crowds. His legs had grown stiff from being awkwardly crossed for so long, and enough people had cleared as to not make moving a contact sport.  


Couples paired off, gliding across the center of the ballroom in intricate spinning patterns that seemed far too graceful as to not be trained at some point. George himself had never been one too taken with dancing. The twirling, tangling of limbs, and partners he’d attempted with had driven him away almost entirely. He’d reasoned if after several failed lessons, no small part of it had to be his own ineptitude, but he’d never admit it to Sapnap nor quackity who had a natural rhythm rivaling the trained performers they’d seen on numerous occasions in the city square or at the palace.  


He remembered fondly watching the two, pushing their way into a small square of the city they’d managed to sneak off to. A simple street performer with a flute and his partner with a fiddle filled the air with such beautiful sounds. The audience pulled from their day to day lives to admire and become enraptured in glorious music.  


Quackity had been leading the two for awhile at this point (he’d been so sure that he’d be able to guide them to the perfect place to spend the day they’d stolen back from stuffy tutors and political talks that bored them to tears) to no avail in arriving to their actual desired destination. Their feet ached and stomachs growled almost loud enough to drown out the petty bickerings and “I-told-you-so”s that overcame the frustrated lot.  


But that music, that glorious symphony that resounded and encapsulated this square that fortune had found them in seemed to rip them from their own heads long enough to appreciate the world around them.  


Men grabbed their wives, children joined hands, dancing to the melody in this lonely little place so filled with life.  


Quackity was the first to jump in, joining hands and clapping with the other children in tune, though Sap wasn’t far behind. Their feet tapped in time to the beat and their smiles shone from ear to ear. Their laughter seemed to melt together with the song adding another rich layer to the sound.  


Yet George stayed out of it, content to listen and watch the two and the others in their merriment instead. Some small, nagging part of him told him that he should join in their frivolity. The much louder voice reminded him that he’d only ruin the harmony if he tried.  


He’d chosen to listen to the latter, even if he couldn’t have explained why.  


But here he stood, not in the square of his family’s nation but in an over crowded ballroom with music much less enchanting than what he’d heard then, without the two who could have even encouraged him to take that stand in the first place beside him.  


Sap had offered to stay, sure, more than the rest could have done, but George’s face flushed with slight embarrassment and indignation.  


“I don’t need a babysitter, Sap. Besides, you don’t get to see Karl much anymore with the new director position he’s taken and I don’t need to console you tomorrow when you realized you missed your chance. I’ll be good,” he assured, “I’ll be good.”  


Sap, adorned in his own finery of a trimmed waistcoat with crimson embroidery and a flower reminiscent of a fire in bloom pinned to his breast, tried to mask the relieved look that spread across his features at that point. But the two had been friends long enough that there wasn’t much chance of George missing it even if he’d tried. And just like that the raven was gone without another word.  


His thoughts occupied him enough that he hadn’t noticed getting so close to the more cleared center of the room. People huddled around the dance floor, watching as couples partnered off and embraced one another in sweeping steps. His eyes snapped up, just in time to pull himself back out of the way of an approaching duo, too locked on one another to have noticed their imminent impact with the prince before it would have been too late.  


However, he hadn’t even had a moment to catch his breath before his back hit the chest of the person behind him.  


A hand rested on his shoulder as his head whipped back, looking up in an attempt to meet the eyes of the person he’d crashed into. “Excuse me, I-”  


The words died in his throat as his eyes locked with inky black.  


No- not just inky black. Fabric. The fabric of a blind fold.  


He began to turn his body away, adjusting his body to face the person he’d just bumped into, and the hand once placed on his shoulder fell away. He could see in full detail now the person standing before him. The green cape he had slung over his shoulder, pushed back to expose the loose sleeves that puffed around his arms and hid any defining shape to them. The way the gray fabric seemed to float around his chest leading to the black corset-like piece that hugged his waist and defined what the rest of the billowing fabric seemed to conceal. The matching emerald sash around his waist above tan slacks that also did little to define the person’s build in any meaningful way to dark boots that rose to his knees. His eyes raised up past the dark leather shoulder piece that rose up his neck to lock his eyes again to where he should have expected to meet the others gaze. All he was met with was the black fabric of the blindfold. Now, looking closer, he could make out green embroidery he’d missed on his first glance, in the shape of a small smile in the center, just above the bridge of his nose.  


How could he possibly see anything in that thing? It tied around behind him, portions obscured by the sandy blond hair, lightly tousled.  


His questions seemed to become lost as his focus remained on where the other person's eyes would have normally met his. Despite not seeing the iris’ of the other, he could swear he felt their gaze peer into him. Investigating, tearing him apart though they couldn’t possibly see a thing.  


He had to drop his gaze, instead focusing on the small half cocked smirk the other wore instead. Pale pink lips turned slightly upwards in the corners, just enough to express his amusement at the other’s expense.  


Something inside the brunet flared. As if that cocky grin had somehow challenged him without the other uttering even a single word.  


Before he could finally open his mouth to speak, the blond let out a soft, breathy laugh, tipping his body forward just enough to mimic an apologetic bow. He’d even bothered to move his right, fingerless gloved hand to hover over his heart. Though the sound that escaped him held no sincerity to any of it.  


“I apologize, your highness, perhaps I shouldn’t have gotten so close. Wouldn’t want to cause you any problems, would I?”  


George collected himself enough, processing the words the other had spoken to him.  


“You-” he had to clear his throat, feeling the breath that had hitched upon impact catching up to him- “perhaps you wouldn’t have if you could see where you’re going. I don’t believe a blindfold in a crowded room is the brightest strategy.”  


The corner of the blond’s lip twitched as he straightened himself out, hand returning to his hip where it had been resting only moments ago.  


“No, no perhaps it wasn’t.” the blond agreed thoughtfully, before tilting his head to the side just a hair. “But goggles aren’t either, don’t you agree?”  


George’s hand on reflex moved to the white rimmed goggles that covered his own eyes. The dark lenses, albeit shielding to others, did offer him some semblance of comfort. Not only could the vibrancy of the room around him be seen through the dark glass, but it also ensured no one would notice should his gaze wander with his thoughts in conversations he didn’t wish to be having.  


“They’re for visual aid, I can assure you.” He bristled slightly at the accusation.  


“And yet you still bumped into me.”  


George’s face bloomed in a pale crimson. “Well- that’s only because you decided to step right behind me knowing I was-”  


He was cut off by another soft laugh coming from the mystery man. “No need to argue it, I forgive you for it. Accidents can happen, and I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me?”  


“Excuse me, I believe we just came to the conclusion that you’re the one that caused it in the first place by stepping right behi-”  


The protest of the prince was interrupted by the applause of those standing around him. The song had reached its conclusion and a new one was just about to begin. A louder, more passionate waltz poured across the floor now, and the now too familiar gloved hand grabbed his.  


He didn’t even have a moment to process as he was swung by a strong grip onto the floor he’d been avoiding all evening. His chest fell forward into the others, unable to retain his balance from the radical movement that left his head spinning. It was enough of an opening for the hand not entwined with his own to find purchase on the small of the brunet’s back.  


“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, eyes darting around the floor to the couples beginning their steps on cue.  


“What? I can’t request a dance in exchange for you running into me? I think it’s more than a fair trade, don’t you?” The blond asked, not yet taking the first step in their waltz. Was he waiting for permission now? After he’d already pulled George into the crowded floor?  


“I told you, you’re the one who put yourself right behind me, it’s your fault in the first place.”  


“Well, consider this my apology instead, then.”  


“Some apology…” George muttered.  


It wasn’t until that moment that he realized that they stood in the middle of the floor in their conversation, that they were making quite the scene of themselves. People in their own dances who didn’t stop to watch them had to move out of their way, which earned quite a few nasty looks.  


“I’d say we should at least begin to move, before we cause any more traffic incidents?” The blond teased. George couldn’t even collect his thoughts well enough to put up a fight before the two were already moving.  


George felt the others feet moving before his, taking a firm lead between the two of them.  


‘ _One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three- god do these songs ever_ end _?_ ’  


The worry on his face must have been evident enough for the other to read.  


“Perhaps if you needed to see your feet better, you could always take those off?” The man across from him asked  


Behind his goggles, George’s eyes narrowed at the blond, who only continued to grin like the cat who caught the canary as they swept with a glide across the marbled floor.  


“I don’t need to stare at my feet. Besides, how could it be any worse than walking around with a blindfold on? Can you even see with that on?”  


“Well enough, I can assure you. Though I think…”  


There was a sudden rush of light that reached George’s eyes. His hand shot from the gentleman’s bicep (when had it gotten there?) to catch the falling goggles before disaster could strike.  


_How hadn’t he felt the other’s hand undoing the ties?_  


“Hm. I was right. Much better.”  


Sapphire and jade eyes met the dark fabric once more, narrowing as the blonds hand left his own, taking the goggles into their joined grasp by one of the bands as their dance continued.  


In the new lighting, the room appeared so dramatically different. The fire light from the chandelier above reflected on the checkered marble floor, intricate white and black pieces cut in fleur de lis shining so bright. Their reflections, though shadowed by the position of the light above flowed and swayed in a way that appeared almost deceptively natural. The fabric of their sashes caught slightly in the currents they created as they moved. It was so hard to see behind the dark glass of his goggles before, but it was almost impossible to pull his eyes away from now.  


Had dancing always felt as natural as it now looked?  


Was it just the atmosphere or was it something altogether different?  


His whole life George could never have pinpointed a moment where dancing had made him feel anything but dread and embarrassment. Yet here, standing with the man before him, dancing with a complete stranger, it felt…  


Dare he say it, _right_?  


“You’re light on your feet, your highness.” His partner spoke, and a soft heat prickled the tops of his cheeks in a way he desperately tried to push down.  


“You’re talking too much,” he managed to retort, albeit weakly.  


He hadn’t noticed the orchestra had finished playing all together. He didn’t care that the couples that had been moving around them stopped to watch as they moved.  


Something inside of him just didn’t want this dance to end.  


With a final, delicate spin, the blond stepped back from George, lowering his body with a flourished bow, deeper and more genuine than the first he’d offered the prince.  


George even offered one in return. A quiet applause floated among the crowd as the band took their bows, signalling the music of the evening was finally preparing to depart.  


But the two who had just danced didn’t even acknowledge them, too busy focusing on one another.  


“I’ll leave you to it, then. It’s been a pleasure, your majesty.”  


The blond was turning on a heel to leave, steps carrying him towards the door to the main hall.  


“Wait!” George sputtered out, rushing forward and grabbing the green cape that hung loosely over the other’s left arm.  


Halting in his tracks, the other's head turned, as if looking back over his shoulder towards the crowned prince. “Yes?”  


“Do I at least get your name?”  


“Hm?”  


“Your name. You never told me what it was.”  


The blond seemed to quirk up an eyebrow, letting out a soft hum of consideration.  


“Dream. You can call me Dream.”  


George let him go after that.  


“George. It’s a pleasure.” He said, returning to formality after recognizing how sudden and rash his actions had just become.  


A warm, gloved hand picked his own up, as the blond turned and leaned down, pressing a delicate kiss on the back of the prince’s pale hand.  


“I can assure you, George, the pleasure is _absolutely_ all mine.”  


And just like that, the blond was gone, lost to the crowd that had begun to make their exits as the party was coming to a close.  


And once more, George was alone in this crowded place, mind occupied with his own thoughts.  


But now these thoughts were focused solely on the dream hidden behind that mask. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for the Dream mask comes from this wonderful animatic here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeLEC091X4A
> 
> Can't even begin to express just how fantastic their work is, and they deserve all credits for that detail. If you have a moment, please go give them some love on their videos!
> 
> This fic will go on for awhile, no set end yet. If you have any questions, comments, constructive criticism, please feel free to comment it! your words always help!
> 
> Love you all, stay safe and stay healthy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the Gala...

”you reek of booze, Sap.”  


“I feel like I got run over by horses, not gonna lie, Gogy.” The raven slammed himself into the chair, right beside the brunet at the long ivory cloth covered table in the dining hall.  


Much like the other large public rooms, the side wall they sat with their backs to was largely constructed of windows. The light of the rising morning sun cascaded long rays across the fabric, and the tall backs of their chairs providing enough comfortable shade for Sap to silently nurse his headache and nausea.  


Aforementioned knight reached up a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger, applying pressure in an attempt to remedy what George could only imagine was the worst hangover of his life.  


Servants silently came around with silver domed platters, setting them before the two arrivals for the morning meal before lifting the chromatic shields to reveal the food beneath: Two eggs, a slice of well cooked ham, a hash, and to the side a large crystalline goblet filled with water. What was on this plate, while simple, looked much better than anything that had been served last evening as horderves.  


The prince and his knight exchanged silent, understanding looks.  


Food first, discussion of what occurred that evening when they’d finished.  


By George’s own calculations, they hadn’t had a full and proper meal since the tavern they’d stopped in on route to the palace which was two nights ago at this point. A hearty stew and bread which was surely enough to have sated them till last evening, but after a full day of nothing else and going to bed with just as much, it had left them feeling hollow inside enough that this plate of food was a welcomed fix.  


After polishing their food off in silence (and Sap quietly asking a servant if they could fetch some herbs that may soothe the aching in his skull), they rose from the table, and began to see themselves out into the main hall outside.  


George’s mind flicked back to the prior evening, to when the party guests had begun to flock from the ballroom beneath the grand staircase they now stood in.  


George had just managed to collect himself enough to try to follow Dream out, attempting to wrestle through the crowd enough to follow the blond’s actions, see where he may have been heading to, who he may have been attending with. He’d even put his goggles back on, hoping the improvements in the definition of the color would aid him somehow.  


However the drunk guests, too caught up in the revery of the evening, stood as too much of an obstacle for him. He couldn’t find a single trace the other had even been there through the maze of bodies and fabrics.  


A hand clapped him on the back of the shoulder.  


Behind him, Karl was struggling to support the leaning weight of Sapnap, who seemed half dazed and so flushed he could’ve been as red as the flower on his jacket.  


“Good evening, your high- George- um- I think Sap’s had a bit too much, and I’ve talked to Pri- Wilbur. Wilbur-” he corrected himself. A pink dusting coated Karl’s cheeks as well, as he attempted to hold not only his companion but himself upright. “It’s cool if you guys need to stay the night, cause- I don’t think Sap can make to back to you guys’ hotel or anything-”  


“The offer is appreciated, Karl. Here, let me,” he gestured over and Karl half dragged Sap to drape the knight’s free arm over George’s shoulder as well.  


Less burdened, the two set to work in taking Sapnap upstairs to the quarters that the servants not too busy with the party were kind enough to prepare for them (though this was with no small effort of Sapnap insisting that he was still “down to party” and he was “just getting started”).  


They trekked up the left flight of velvet lined steps, careful of each one not to catch on the carpet.  


The light of the chandeliers had begun to be dimmed, still illuminating enough for the trio to see where their footing was to take them as well as for the party goers to see themselves safely to the doors. Where Quackity, Bad, or Skeppy may have been among that herd George was none too sure.  


He halted as their steps had finally gotten them all the way to the top on the cusp of the west wing, flagging down a nearby servant to alert them of his missing trio of traveling companions.  


“If you see them, if you don’t mind trying to get them up here as well? I don’t think they’ll cause any problems for you, but it’s better than them trying to take a horse back out there tonight.” 

George explained, earning a nod in response as the servant ushered off to complete their task.  


Returning his focus to the task at hand George continued with the others down the long hall taking them to the bed chambers.  


They passed door after door before reaching one opened, illuminated by the glow of a candle inside.  


The protest of the drunken man died in his throat as soon as his face collided with the royal blue of the bed sheets and he succumbed to sleep instantly.  


Karl let out a soft laugh at the other’s antics, taking a seat beside the other on the spanning four poster bed. His hand reached out gently, stroking some dark hair out of his friend’s sleeping face, which relaxed under his ministrations.  


“Thank you for taking care of him tonight, he’s always glad to have the time to spend with you, even if the party can get to his head a bit.” George commented as he leaned against the dark wooden dressing table, back to the 3 sectioned mirror atop it.  


“It’s not anything you have to thank me for, I like to hang out with him. I don’t see him all the time anymore, since I took my job here.” Karl hummed softly, eyes not lifting from Sapnap’s form.  


George’s own expression softened next.  


The way that the purple and green of karl’s eyes seemed to glow softly as his focus remained on Sap’s made something stir in himself too. The dedication, the loyalty, the affection all seemed to carry in a way words could not convey.  


The way Karl looked at Sapnap was something that could not be defined nor mistaken.  


“He cares about you too, you know,” George offered without thinking much of it.  


“I know. You can tell.” Karl nodded in affirmation.  


“How?” George asked, tilting his head just a bit.  


“Well… How do I word it.” His lips pursed as they tended to when the designer was deep in thought. “There’s this feeling you get. When that person looks at you… It’s like you feel yourself open up, and that they’re free to come and take every part of you for their own.”  


George’s eyebrow lifted. “A bit poetic, isn’t it?”  


“Yeah, I guess… I read a book once that described it like- your heart is your most prized possession, right? We all have emotions and desires and feelings. You can look back for thousands of years and the root of almost everything you read is just that; their heart’s take on whatever they were doing. But when we find someone we care about, they somehow manage to get that piece of us without contest. Or, better stated, they steal it from us when we’ve let our guard down just enough.”  


Karl’s eyes landed back to Sapnap as his arms wrapped tight around Karl’s waist, head finding a comfortable purchase on his lap. With a small huff and a shake of his head, Karl didn’t even bother to try to push the other off, just resting his hand behind Sap’s head to stroke the soft hair there.  


“And you know when they look at you that way, you don’t want to take it back. You’d just as freely have given it to them anyways.”  


George nodded slowly, lifting himself from the edge of the table. “I’ll leave you two to it then.” he said.  


Karl’s eyes went wide, looking at George. “Wait- you’re not going to leave me here with him attached to me like this, right? I can’t go to bed with him-”  


“Good night, Karl.” George spoke, despite the sputtering protest of the other as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.  


He slowly made his way further down the hall before finding the next open door.  


This room, similarly to the last one, was furnished in all dark oak. There were royal blue sheets as well, but unlike the last one that held no windows, this one was connected to a sprawling balcony on the corner of the building itself. George marveled at how clean everything was as he slipped his goggles off, setting them on the side table of the four poster canopy bed.  


He less than gracefully fell back on the pillowy softness of the down comforter, almost smelling the sunlight that had dried these sheets outside on the clothing lines and the soft scent of the soap that had been used. Something floral, lavender maybe?  


His eyes shut as he took in the aroma, feeling his body growing heavy and sluggish.  


Perhaps he was more tired than he’d believed.  


It took every ounce of his strength to sit upright again to take off his sash and blazer.  


When out of the corner of his eye he swore he saw a shadow dart across the balcony.  


Halting his fingers on the golden buttons of the dress shirt he wore below his coat, he slowly made his way towards the doors that lead to the marble balcony outside.  


He could see through the windows there was a light dusting of autumn leaves that had begun to collect on the white stone. A large tree grew not too far from the ledge offering itself as the most likely culprit for the clutter. The moon’s glow reflected on the pale stone lighting the area better than the candle he’d been left with.  


But there was nothing in sight that would’ve caused any type of shadow. No breeze to push an errant branch. No animals in search of food.  


Emptiness.  


A shudder chased its way down George’s spine though he didn’t have the faintest idea why.  


He grabbed the golden rope which tied back the heavy satin curtains and with little effort they came loose, draping the fabric across the door and windows and blocking all light but that of the candle.  


More comforted, he returned to undressing himself, and setting his clothes on a pile atop the heavy chest at the foot of his bed.

He returned once more to the warm embrace of the sheets, sliding underneath the covers with a contented sigh. 

With a soft breath, he blew out the last remaining source of illumination and the room and world went dark as sleep overtook him. 

It hadn’t felt like long after that he awoke and found himself at breakfast with Sapnap who he now strolled with towards the front door and lawn. 

He hadn’t even noticed Sapnap talking to him as the evening replayed in his head while they walked. Bits of “Karl” and “the music” and how much alcohol his friend had consumed rang a bell, but that was as much of it as he could recall if he’d been asked. 

“... And what about you? What happened to you last night?” 

“Huh?” 

“Oh yeah. You met someone didn’t you?” Sap smirked 

“No, I- well- maybe… I don’t know,” George sighed, shaking his head, “maybe? We just danced. That was all.” 

“You? Dancing? Someone actually managed to get you to dance?” Sap moved swiftly to walk in front of George, turning to walk backwards to face the prince as they moved. 

“... Yes.” George raised a hand, placing it behind his neck to rub the shorter hairs there. 

“Must’ve been one hell of a guy to get you on the dance floor.” 

George’s eyebrows furrowed, letting out a sigh. “No, I can assure you. He pulled me before I could tell him no, I didn’t want…” He trailed off. 

_didn’t_ he want to? 

He could’ve taken the opportunity to pull away if he’d really wanted to. Make a big enough scene, pull hard enough, and anyone will let go. Even the stranger in the mask. 

… Maybe he _did_ want to- 

“ _Get down-!_ ” was all he’d managed to register before he felt the ground leave his feet and heard the shrieking of the horse. Jerking back so violently he felt his brain rattle between his ears George didn’t have a moment to register as his back hit the warmth of another and his legs brushed the leather of a saddle. 

“W-What-” 

“Second time almost causing an accident, you really should get those goggles of yours checked, your highness.” The warm breath of the other brushed against the shell of his ear as his face grew red from the near silent whisper. 

_oh._

There was another rumble of hooves crashing up behind them as George’s gaze turned back enough to fall upon familiar black fabric. 

“You-” George began to mutter. 

“Nice catch, Dream, sorry Sap, sorry George, the ball just got away from me on that one…” 

The airy and seemingly ashamed voice of the crowned prince came from the back of the majestic white steed. 

Wilbur had always been a sensible person, and the genuine concern he held in his voice was conveyed sincerely. He wore tan riding pants, as well as tall boots that seemed to blend with the worn leather of his saddle. The long tan coat he donned caught the slight breeze that whistled through the trees around him. He rested the mallet he’d been using across the back of the horse before dismounting and rushing over to the two gentlemen on the black steed ahead of him. 

“Lucky he did, that ball nearly caved his skull in…” Sap muttered and kicked the offending white object off to the side. 

“No need for dramatics,” Dream insisted before gently setting George back to the ground and dismounting himself, “accidents happen. I’m sure his highness is fine now, isn’t he?” 

“Y-yeah… Fine, I’m fine… You were at the gala last evening, you’re-” 

“Where are my manors,” Wilbur cut in, holding his hands out to gesture between the two. “Dream, this is George, crowned prince of the Geosack Alliance. George, this is Dream-” 

“Representative of the SMP Nation. It’s a pleasure.” The fingerless gloved hand reached out towards him. George’s heart froze. 

“The SMP Nation? You’re-” 

“I tend to leave political rivalry out of friendly conversation, don’t you?” 

“... Charming.” George replied through gritted teeth before taking the others hand in a formal shake. Though there was no kindness to it. Just a formality. 

George could recall countless lessons on the ruthless and ceaseless disputes between the Geosack Alliance and the SMP Nation for border control, resources, and legislation across shared territories. Known for cunning whit, charismatic charm, and deceit, those from the SMP Nation only truly desired one thing:  
Control. 

“I’m shocked it wasn’t his majesty that came to represent your country here. I would’ve expected he’d never miss a chance to show.” George commented, raising a slight eyebrow to which he received a simple shrug. 

“Eret was busy with more… pressing concerns. He appointed me to come in his stead. I hope that isn’t a problem, I’m sure if you’d like to discuss matters of state, I could carry a letter to him when I return home,” Dream began, before that same damned coy smirk made its fateful return from last evening, “or we can drop niceties and talk business ourselves. It’s completely up to you.” 

George had to hold back a scoff of annoyance as his head shook slightly. “No need. I’m sure I’d get nowhere with either.” 

“So… tense much?” Sap coughed from behind the two, stepping forward to stand at George’s side. “Sapnap. Knight of the Geosack Alliance. Nice to meet you, Dream.” 

Just as he’d done with George, Dream’s hand joined Sap’s and they shook firmly. 

There was a split second of something that flashed across Sap’s face at that moment though, George barely catching it before it vanished. 

_Was that…_

_No. There’s no way Sap knew a member of the SMP Nation, after all._

“We’re going to finish our game now. Please, enjoy your walk. We’ll be more careful where we swing from here on.” Dream bowed slightly before returning to the saddle with Wilbur. Without another word, the two rode off, leaving the prince and his knight to themselves and their own thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW that came out quicker than I thought it would- I hope to post more about the kingdom dichotomy in coming chapters, as well as further developing the relationship between the boys as we go. If there's any questions, feedback, or comments, please feel free to leave them below! Your words feed me.
> 
> As always, know you're loved and stay safe and healthy!


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